Irish Kisses
by SheSailsShips
Summary: "Kiss me, I'm Irish." It's Saint Patrick's Day and the ARC team finds themselves in the spirit. Matt/Emily, Connor/Abby, Becker/Jess. One-shot.


**A/N:** It's light, it's fluffy, it's a holiday!fic, but I couldn't help myself. Blame commercialism. It seems that in the last couple of days I couldn't go to the grocery store, the latte stand, the mall- without running into a shamrock or a 'Kiss me, I'm Irish!' shirt. Strangely (I like St. Patrick's Day and all, but it's nothing I go super crazy over), I found the store's money making reminders inspiring me to write. And thus- this fic was written. I really wanted to expand on the old 'Kiss me, I'm Irish' line and of course Matt was the first image that came to mind so I thought- okay I'll make this a cute little memily piece, but then Connor/Abby and Becker/Jess wanted to have a happy St. Paddy's Day too...so this turned into a multi-ship piece and I'm so glad it did- I had a blast writing it up! I realize Emily may come across as a little _bolder_ here than we're use to seeing, but there's some spunk to her that I've noticed re-watching the episodes and I wanted to explore that side of her. Well, before I ramble on anymore I think I'll stop here- I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! Be sure to drop a line and let me know what you think!

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The pub was noisy that night with celebration. Flashes of green zipped in and out of Emily's vision as she dutifully trailed after Jess- which consequencely was no easy task as the place was nearing capacity. She excused herself for the third time, brushing past warm bodies that smelled of Guinness, as she attempted to forge a path to the bar behind her optimistic companion (It was Jess's logic that they would be able to meet up with at least _one_ of the team there...). With a slight frown she dodged an elbow and sped up to take advantage of a break in the mass of people, still trying to grasp why she had been invited (and agreed) to come along on this little escapade by the ARC's field coordinator.

This much she _did_ understand though: it was Saint Patrick's Day- the monumental Irish holiday apparently endured...and perhaps with greater popularity than even in her own time? Grins, rowdy laughter, shamrocks, and shocks of vibrant green colored the festivities. The crowd around Emily suddenly parted and quite abruptly she found herself at the pub's counter- squeezed in next to Jess. The young woman shot a bright smile back over her shoulder and, in a shout muffled by the chaos around them, said "See, look it's Connor and Abby- knew we would find them here!"

Emily smiled back and nodded as she spotted them a couple feet down the bar. Shorter than the average man pushed up beside them, Jess bounced on her feet and gave a couple wild waves of the arm to catch their attention, which seemed to work- Connor and Abby were headed their way. Emily edged closer to the bar and tilted her head a bit, trying to catch a glimpse of the end of the counter. At last a man of large size and thirst moved and she was given a clear look, but the view left her...unsatisfied. Emily bit her lip in thought, but was pulled out of whatever disappointment was forming as the bartender approached her part of the counter.

"And what will it be lass?" he asked with a good natured smile- and a terrible accent.

"Uh- that will be one white wine spritzer and-"

Emily blinked and turn her head to see Connor standing just behind her, ordering with a smirk and a wink- which was quickly removed by his girlfriend as she threw him a disbelieving look and began speaking over him, "Four pints of whatever your best Irish stuff is."

"Or that..." he finished as the barman walked away. Abby smiled and patted his cheek with affection, "Let's just leave the ordering to me, 'kay?" He nodded with no argument, obviously enjoying her touch, the green felt hat on his head and the green, white, and orange scarf around his neck bobbing with the motion.

"This is so exciting- I'm glad we could meet up," Jess cut in, her short green skirt swishing around her legs as she stood on the tip of her toes, practically leaning over the bar to see down the line. After a moment she drew back with a small frown, "Anyone seen Becker?"

Emily scanned the sea of people packed in around them, but couldn't catch sight of a _drop_ of black, which the solider in question seemed to favor, amongst the swell of green. No sign of a certain Irish man either. The bartender returned with their order and Abby gave an apologetic shake of the head as she reached for her pint, "No, sorry Jess..."

Emily shifted a couple inches down as Connor reached over for his own drink, nearly pinning his girlfriend in the process, completely _unapologetic_ in his actions, but answered Jess with sympathy- "Uh, wait now, wasn't he trying to find us a booth?"

The young woman's eyes lit up at this and she angled herself towards the mass of bodies filling up the rest of the pub, "Oh, a booth- that would be nice," she commented with a grin at Connor. Emily looked to the bar where her beer sat, untouched, and ran her fingers through the condensation on the glass, _where was Matt? _

"Yeah, I could use a seat," Connor agreed leaning back against the counter, and then a playful gleam entered his eyes and he glanced at Abby, "...or a kiss."

This drew the attention of all three women surrounding Connor, Jess with a wink at the man who was like her surrogate techy brother and a nudge against Abby- whose eyebrows rose in a look that said, _oh really?..._ Emily glanced between them all, wonderingly- some modern custom? After locking eyes with Connor for a teasingly long period, Abby raised her glass and took a swallow,

"Well, I guess you wish were Irish about now then, don't you?"

Connor opened his mouth in dismay, having started to lean towards her when her beer blocked the movement. He was not out maneuvered for very long though as he started smirking again,

"But I am Irish- on my father's grandmother's cousin's side..."

Abby couldn't suppress a grin at this and set her pint down on the counter, "Well in that case," she relented, taking his face in her hands. Their kiss was toothy and sound as they smiled into it. Lost, but smiling to herself at the warm display of affection between two people who clearly loved each other, Emily politely looked away. Jess had also adverted her eyes and meet the Victorian woman's with a bright expression. Without any helpful clarity, she started speaking in an excited sort of way, her cheeks pink from the heat of the room,

"My father's side hails from Ireland."

Emily noted the red in her hair and nodded, but was helplessly unsure of _why_ this bit of genealogy was important. Jess stared at her for a beat, obviously expecting a more interested response, but when nothing more was said she rambled on, "You know...who knows what will happen, it's tradition and all. Cliché, but maybe I should have bought one of those shirts, made it a bit more obvious...?"

Emily went to respond, albeit uncertainly, but then noticed the young field coordinator was now talking more to herself than anyone in particular. A small smile playing on her lips, despite her confusion and mild disappointment she was enjoying herself, she turned her attention back to her drink. One elegant finger ran around the rim and then a yawn, quickly stifled, escaped her. Enjoying herself- but tired. The day before had been long- what with fighting carnivorous dogs- and she had barely slept in her new quarters at the ARC. There was something about it...it wasn't as peaceful as his. Emily paused- where had that come from? Blinking, looking to dismiss the thought, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. At first she thought it was Connor trying to get her attention, but after a split second- and a waft of alcohol, she realized she was mistaken. A tall man, not unpleasant looking but ruddy in the cheeks, was standing right before her. He grinned down at her, not menacingly, but with a sort of confident air- clearly full of liquid courage.

Emily was no stranger to intoxicated men; she had fought off her share every season in London, and looked to him with a level stare. Having got her attention, the man seemed unsure what to do next, and for a moment Emily (with fleeting hope) thought he might move on, but then his voice found him and courage renewed,

"What do you say? Will you treat an Irish man to a kiss?"

Unbidden, a face flashed before Emily's eyes and with color tingeing her cheeks (for reasons entirely unrelated to what the man was hoping) she attempted to collect herself-

"And for what reason should I, sir? I do not know you."

It was his turn to be thrown off kilter and he blinked for a moment as if trying to formulate an argument against such reason. Finally, after a lengthy pause, he smiled persuasively,

"But, isn't it tradition? I say, 'kiss me, I'm Irish' and you kiss me. It's all in good fun, just one kiss..."

Emily's lips curved with understanding and stood away from the counter with purpose, "Ah, I see now," she nodded, "But I'm afraid I have to decline."

"Because you're not Irish mate," Connor suddenly chimed him, appearing at the man's shoulder. Abby and Jess were on other side of him, each looking sympathedic. The man, fortunately for Connor, was not the brawling kind (perhaps because he really _wasn't_ Irish...) and with a raised eyebrow and a grunt he stepped way, muttering, "It's was worth a try, dumb elitists..."

"Hey..." Connor protested, but Abby was already securing his arm in hers,

"Easy, you don't really want to start a fight in a pub full of Irishmen do you?"

"Not _that_ many apparently..." he murmured under his breath.

Emily moved from the spot in which she had been standing for virtually an hour and smiled gratefully at Connor, "Thank you."

"Oh hey, no problem," he shrugged, "I would have intervened before, but I hadn't noticed until Abby and Jess pointed it out."

Emily extended her gratitude to Abby and Jess as well, but the latter seemed to have her mind on other things.

Jess, her arms crossed and her eyes flicking face to face, let out a sigh, "Perhaps I was wrong in thinking that...everybody was going to meet tonight."

Connor, seeing her face fall, quickly glanced around, "No- no I saw him, I did."

Jess rubbed her wrist then checked the time, "Well, maybe he left then?"

Connor frowned, but had no answer for that one. Abby drew herself up and set a cheerful look on her face, "We're here though, right? Let's get our own seats."

Connor seemed to like the idea, but Jess was still staring down at her watch. Emily felt her eyes sting as she blinked, the warmth of the room making her more tried than she already was.

"Um- that's okay, I think I'll turn in- gotta be back to the ARC bright and early," Jess answered, trying to add some enthusiasm into her voice.

Abby stared at her for a beat, unconvinced, but nodded, "Alright...if you're sure."

The young woman nodded back, but then paused and snapped her head around to Emily, "Oh, but are you ready? I forgot, I practically forced you into coming...I can stay a bit longer."

Emily shook her head quickly,

"No, it's alright; I think I'll go back with you."

Abby looked between them with a small frown, "If you want to stay, Connor and I have no problem giving you a ride back to the ARC."

Emily smiled, but resisted the offer- what she wanted now was a good night's sleep, "I really should get some rest, I'm not quite used to all this yet..."

Connor put an arm around Abby's shoulders, "Well- next time then," he suggested brightly. Emily nodded warmly and Jess smiled, "Definitely."

With a few more goodbyes and waves, Jess lead the way from the bar and Emily followed much as she had when they arrived, forcing a path through the throng of people filling the pub. It was as she was trying to keep pace with Jess that Emily caught sight of him. The solider. She paused and then glanced towards Jess, thinking she might call out to her, but the noise was still deafening. Emily returned her attention to the area in which she saw him and was surprised then with a second sighting, for sitting at the table Becker had just returned to was Matt.

Neither saw her; the crowd was too thick- it was by chance she had seen them at all. Standing still in a sea of people, she was being gently pushed about; she should leave- catch up to Jess. But something strange entered her tired mind at that moment- the encounter with that man.

_It's tradition. It's all in good fun, just one kiss..._

Emily took in a breath; she squared her shoulders...and walked in the opposite direction of the door. She reached him, his back was turned to her so that he had no idea that she was behind him. Becker saw her though, and had barely gotten out "Emily?" when she leaned over Matt. It was meant to be a quick kiss- all in the good spirit of the tradition, but his surprise altered that slightly. By reflex his head tilted back and she felt him gasp- who could be suddenly kissing him? He began to pull away, but without thought her hand moved to lightly cup his cheek, holding him still. His eyes opened for the briefest of moments- seeing it was her he began to respond- and she ended the kiss.

Feeling strangely composed, a slight smile laced her lips- in explanation she spoke in the best imitation of his accent she could manage:

"Happy Saint Patrick's Day Matt."

And with that she turned from their table, leaving Becker to stare and Matt with a thoughtful smile. Halfway to the door it was brought to her attention that the bar afforded a better view than expected as she caught sight of Connor's shocked face- the front part of his shirt sloshed with beer from when he had missed his mouth in surprise. Abby's eyes were wide, but her smirk was wider. Emily felt a slight blush expand across her skin as she moved through the crowd.

Jess was just opening her car door when Emily stepped out of the pub, "Oh- there you are. I was worried another _Irishman_ had cornered you."

Emily blinked, enjoying the sudden coolness of the night air. Recovering, she summoned a quick smile, making her way to the passenger side of the car, "I'm sorry I worried you."

Jess had just turned to get in when the pub door swung open for a second time. Before Emily shut herself in the car, she heard a man's voice: "Jess!"

It was dark and there were few lights on the street outside, but through the tint of the car windows, Emily could make out the shape of the man approaching- it was a man wearing black. Emily smiled once again and leaned her head back- she was tired, but it was pleasant sort of tired, the kind that almost guaranteed good dreams. Moments later the silence of the car was broken by Jess suddenly opening the driver side door.

She sounded a little breathless and her hand was a bit unsteady as it went for the ignition, but there was a brilliant smile spread across her face. There was a beat and then she spoke with a rush of winded energy,

"Becker's Irish. It's funny that I didn't catch that in his file."

Emily looked to the young woman, her cheeks pink with happiness and knew what she did not see through those tinted windows, "You both?" Quietly, she surmised that the soilder was about as _Irish _as _Connor_.

"Yeah, how about that?" Jess answered and then something entered her eyes,

"Matt's Irish too..."

Emily smiled, "Yes, he is..."

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